Hands and Feet
by Porcelain Birds
Summary: Wilke loved gambling. And Daphne Vasquez was as high a risk as they came. Besides, it was only natural; Wilke had always been fascinated by hands. It was only right that he fell in love with a girl that used hers to speak.


_So I love Daphne. I can't really say that I'm Bay's biggest fan, but there won't be any bashing in this fic. I am a Demmet and Dilke shipper, though this contains only Dilke and some slight Ebay, though they're only there to add conflict. For now it's a one-shot, but if enough people like it, I'll turn it into a story._

* * *

><p>Wilke had always had an obsession with hands. Some guys stared at boobs, but his eyes always found their way back to a girl's hands.<p>

His mother was an artist, and a pianist. He had literally worshipped her, while she was still alive. He would spend hours watching her paint, the sure strokes of her brush leaving beautiful colors on blank canvases. And he would lean against her shoulder, as her delicate fingers pressed down on the black and white keys of the piano, producing beautiful music.

And while she was dying on that hospital bed, the cancer eating away at her once beautiful body, her hands had remained immaculate, perfect as ever. Wilke would always remember his mother as the most beautiful woman in the world. She had truly shaped his character.

Many of his peers made the mistake of assuming that Wilke was nothing more than a reckless  
>sex addicted teenage boy. They thought he simply breezed through life on his father's money, and never felt an ounce of guilt for the things he did.<p>

They were wrong.

No one ever knew how hard he worked at soccer, running drills continuously, in an effort to improve; no one ever knew that he would often throw up after leaving a girl's bedroom, sick with guilt. No one knew, and that was how it was going to stay. Let them think there was nothing more to him than what met their eyes. Because if he proved them wrong, if anyone ever discovered there was more to Wilke d'Angelo then what they assumed, he would become a cliché. And that was one thing he knew he wouldn't be able to stand.

Of course, that plan was all shot to hell when he met Daphne Vasquez. After all, he was fascinated by hands; it should only be natural that he fall for a girl who used hers to speak.

The first time he met Daphne was at a Buckner auction. The whole 'switched at birth' bombshell was still new, even for the affected families. Wilke's eyes had immediately been drawn to the pretty strawberry blonde in the pale pink dress. She seemed so different from anyone at the event, yet she seemed to fit in effortlessly.

He had made a crude comment or two to Toby, before his friend's biological sister came over, offering a solution to their issue of a missing drummer. He was deaf, and obviously in love with Daphne, which had disappointed Wilke, but he knew better than to encroach on another guy's territory.

Yet he had been surprised to find that their deaf drummer-Emmett- wasn't even with Daphne. No, in fact it was Liam. The football star, Bay's ex-boyfriend, and an overall douchebag. And coming from Wilke that meant a lot.

He had found the entire situation quite amusing. However, when he fell asleep that night, the blue eyed girl, who held conversations using only her hands plagued his dreams.

The next time he had seen her, she was once again with Emmett; though Wilke had been surprised that they were involved in a poker game. He had been happy to help her and her buddy out, though he had not been pleased with the overall results. It had landed him in a hellhole of debt.

Yet even as he returned to Buckner, with the weight of his debt resting heavily on his shoulders, suddenly, home economics was his new favorite class. Walking into the classroom and seeing the strawberry blonde there every day was like a breath of fresh air in his otherwise polluted life.

Evidently Daphne Vasquez, or Kennish-or whatever the hell she really was-also had a lot going on. Enough to set her fries on fire, and to walk straight in the pathway of a moving car. But none of that mattered. Because Wilke had grabbed her before that happened. And he made her laugh. That was all that really mattered. She laughed, and he smiled.

But in the end, Daphne wasn't his girl. In the end, Daphne belonged to Emmett. And Wilke knew Emmett belonged to Daphne. They had talked about many things that day in her old neighborhood, and her lifelong crush on the blonde deaf boy had been one of them. Wilke couldn't compete with that. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

He had no desire to learn sign language. And he had no doubt that Daphne would ask him to. And when it came down to it, Daphne was deaf. She would want someone like her, someone that would understand her. Someone like Emmett. What use would she have for a blonde, preppy kid with a suspension and a gambling problem?

But then again, Wilke had always been in love with gambling in a way. Putting everything on the line, betting it all, and seeing whether he would gain or lose. And he was starting to believe that the beautiful girl who could not hear was the biggest gamble of all.

* * *

><p>Wilke was lounging on his bed, tossing his soccer ball at the wall, listening to his iPod. He was attempting to vent off his anger, but he wouldn't go so far as to dent the wall. That would only catch his father's attention, and he didn't want to have to talk to the man who put him in this state for any longer than absolutely necessary.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull up on the rain soaked driveway. Wilke frowned, and took his earbuds out of his ears, and set the ball down on his bed. He didn't recognize the car. It wouldn't be Toby, or Bay, but who else would come and visit him? Certainly not any of his poker buddies.

However, his question was answered when he saw a head of pale ginger hair pop out of the driver's side.

Daphne.

Leaping off of his bed, he ran down to the front entrance, taking the steps two at a time. He had just reached the front door, when he heard a polite little knock. Yanking open the door, he came face to face with a distraught looking Daphne.

Her stunning hair was soaked, as was her clothes and skin. But her face held a different kind of wetness, tear tracks running all down her cheeks. And when she lifted her pale blue eyes to meet Wilke's, he immediately saw that they were still brimming with tears.

"Emmett is dating Bay. And neither of them told me. I-I know that this is…Wilke, I just need a friend."

Not focusing on the words 'Wilke' 'just' and 'friend' used in the same sentence, by the object of his affections, he kept his eyes on Daphne. Instantly, Wilke held out his arms, and Daphne practically collapsed into a hug, her sobs tugging at his heart. Somehow, they managed to intertwine their hands, and Wilke couldn't help but notice how their hands fit perfectly.

That had to count for something.


End file.
